


Bushwhacker

by RabidSquid



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Dungeons & Dragons, Drabble, F/F, Gay Panic, Horror, I Blame Tumblr, M/M, Multi, One Shot, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29326302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabidSquid/pseuds/RabidSquid
Summary: A chance meeting between a Sorcerer and a Monk
Relationships: Amity Blight & Edric Blight & Emira Blight, Edric Blight/Jerbo, Emira Blight/Viney
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VeeLilu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeeLilu/gifts).



> This is based in the DnD AU VeeLilu is working on. Whether or not anything here us canon or not is determined by her

Could one call Edric foolhardy? Up until this moment, he would’ve disagreed with that assumption.

“Wake up long-ear!” A guttural voice snarled, hot breath thick with the reek of blood blasting Edric's face. “We wanna hear ya scream!”

Through the blood that ran down his face, Edric blearily gazed at the Orc bandit in front of him. Second he made eye-contact, a fist collided with his gut, earning a pained gasp and a few drops of blood dripping down his chin.

“Aigh, he's just meat now boss.” Another Orc sneered. “We'se ain’t gonna get no screams from ‘im.”

“Cryin' shame.” The first of them sighed before dealing one more swing to the Elf's face for good measure.

He felt the cold iron biting into his wrists, wearing away his skin to nothing. Each hit had him lightly sway, the shackles that bound him to the tree keeping him hanging off the ground. He long lost track of how long he was here, he stopped caring after he felt his ribs snap.

One of the Orcs drew a carving knife, a malicious smile revealing jagged teeth. “I ‘eard that the ears make fer good cookin’—”

A pained cry echoed in the distance, drawing the attention if all the Orcs. “…sounds like Grok bought it.”

“Looks like we'se got fresh meat!” Another Orc called as she readied her greataxe.

Most of them lumbered down towards the pallisades, only one remaining to keep an eye on their punching bag. The Edric from before would've tried to pick the lock already, but this one couldn’t find it in him to even make a snarky jibe.

He was starving.

His bones were splintered.

He was alone.

_I don’t care how I get out of this, just make it stop…_

The clanking of iron on wood echoed in the evening air, accompanied by pained screams. At some point, a savagely designed Orcish sword went flying past, it’s owner thrown into a tree hard enough for their bones to snap. Loudly.

The remaining Orc readied his heavy crossbow, expertly taking aim. A towering figure appeared in the dim light, the stranger seemingly unarmed. Squeezing the trigger, the crossbow bolt struck it’s mark right in the stranger's chest.

And he wasn’t even slowed, still stomping up to the Orc.

The Orc spat a string of curses in his native tongue as he drew his second crossbow and fired again. Even with striking the shoulder, the stranger kept walking, raising a hand for a dozen thorny vines to burst from his palm. Each thorn was an inch long, all of them easily piercing through the Orc's leather armor. One last cry of anguish echoed out, the Orc’s bloodied body flying off a cliff. As the stranger neared, Edric could discern details about him. 

Messy brown hair with leaves and twigs trapped in those bronze locks framed a rather chiseled face for an Elf. His armor seemed to be a collection of assorted hides and worn steel plates, a light dusting of dirt coating him.

And eye-level with him was the most beautiful pair of brown eyes Edric had ever seen.

He heard something murmured in Elvish, calloused hands fiddling with the shackles. He felt the painful iron finally fall from his wrists, the stranger lifting him over one shoulder.

Edric only saw the passing forest floor and heard heavy footsteps, the two lulling him to unconsciousness.

* * *

The feeling of cool water sliding down his throat was the first thing he felt.

It took considerable effort to get his eyes to open, Edric seeing the same face from before. A strangely nervous smile contorted the stranger's lips as he withdrew his waterskin.

“Phew, you're up.” The stranger’s voice was rather soft despite his size. Edric was beginning to realize just how big he was. “You were fading in and out for awhile.”

The smell of something urged Edric to sit up. Although his body hurt, he wasn’t feeling his splintered ribs scratching at his chest every time he breathed. One of the stranger's large hand was on his back, helping him sit up.

“Figured you'd be hungry so I cooked something up. Have as much as you want—”

The stranger's voice was cut off as Edric immediately grabbed the steaming deer leg that was over the campfire. Although it was hot, he voraciously devoured the meat.

In only mere minutes, Edric had picked the bones clean. His hunger sated, he was finally beginning to have lucid thoughts again. Still gnawing at the bones, he turned his head to the absolutely gigantic stranger next to him.

“…you feeling any better?” His voice was so soft for someone so big. Although lean, there was definitive muscles that were visible in between the gaps of his armor.

“Very.” Edric swallowed. In the glow of the firelight, the stranger was absolutely stunning to look at. “…I uh…never…got your name…?”

“O-OH! S-sorry, kinda slipped my mind…” the colossus nervously chuckled. “I’m Jerbo.”

“E-E-Edric.” He was still trying to wrap his head around how big Jerbo was. He had Elvish features but he was at least 8 feet tall.

The award silenced reigned for a moment, Jerbo clearing his throat. “So uh…what were you doing this deep in the forest?”

Edric tensed, the pain his wrists her in silenced by how his heart twisted. “…just personal reasons.”

Jerbo raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the matter. “Not going to lie here, but I think we should stick together til we get to a nearby town.”

“Why's that?”

Jerbo blinked. “…you do realize that you don’t have any gear right?”

Edric froze. Looking down, he recognized the tattered shreds of cloth he was in. His boots were missing too along with a his rucksack. A hand to his ear and he felt a sharp nick in the flesh where his earring used to be. And the ring he was given for a spellcasting focus was gone too, leaving him in a rather perilous situation.

“I’m heading to a town called Bonesburough, my sister said that she’s got some job offers there that she thinks I'd be good for.” Jerbo continued. “It's a moderate sized town, you could get new equipment there.”

“W-why?” Edric blurted. Noticing Jerbo's perplexed gaze, Edric continued, unable to keep eye contact. “…w-why would you go through all this to help me?”

“You seem in a bad way. Why wouldn’t I help?”

Edric wouldn’t tear up, he would not lose his composure from such a selfless display. “Y-you don’t need to…”

“But I want to.” The larger of the two insisted.

Part of Edric tried to think of a counter argument and he came up empty. He tried navigating the forest on his own and nearly ended up in a shallow grave. When the Orcs ambushed him, he was helpless without his ring.

And throughout it all, he was alone.

Looking up at the giant of an Elf, Edric’s glimmering golden eyes looked into those earthen brown irises. “…thank you.”

To his surprise, Jerbo had a bashful look as he glanced away. “Y-y-you're welcome…and we can get started tomorrow. By then you should be healed up enough.”

* * *

As the morning sun rose, Edric was the first to awaken. Sitting up, he recognized the forest the two had camped in. Jerbo was yawning as he started sitting up, Edric beginning to realize that he was simply huge.

“So uh….” Edric felt his cheeks heat up as he watched Jerbo rise to his full height of 8'6”. “…could we head back to the Orc camp? They stole my spellcasting focus.”

“O-OH!” Jerbo swallowed. “Guess I should’ve checked the bodies…s-s-sorry about that.”

“Eh, not like you knew.” Edric reassured him as the two began rolling up their bedrolls.

It did not take long for Jerbo to pack up his gear, the taller of the two leading the way. For his enormous stature, he was incredibly graceful as he effortlessly blazed a trail through the trees and scrub.

Following him, Edric couldn’t help but let himself smile at his new travelling companion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatta ya know, I continued this

In the first few days of travel with Jerbo, Edric came to learn quite a few things the hard way.

Firstly, he was absolutely hopeless at this adventuring life. He lost track of how many times Jerbo had to patch him up from failing to notice the sharp dips in the ground that he'd trip over, the poisonous plants he licked out of curiosity, and from the many wild critters that he incited to attack in his efforts to bond with them.

Secondly, Jerbo had quite the aptitude for combat despite his softspoken demeanor. He had overpowered several bears, thrown around wolves and moved entire fallen logs aside without any sort of magic. Considering most Elves relied on dexterity and graceful movement rather then raw, overpowering and increasingly attractive strength, Edric had dumbly gawked at Jerbo every time he displayed his sheer might.

And finally, he was lucky that it was Jerbo who was accompanying him. In between his injuries, the larger of the two patiently waited for Edric to recover every time. Although he would be exasperated when they occurred for the most foolhardy of reasons, Jerbo never lost that gentleness as he administered healing magic or that fond smile of his.

"How're you holding up?" Jerbo was a few feet ahead, his longer stride and familiarity with the wilds making him much quicker through the scrub and bushes then Edric.

"Just...great..." Edric wheezed, the Sorcerer leaning on his knees as he gasped for breath.

Jerbo simply shook his head as he backtracked a little, his travelling companion taking a few gulps from his waterskin. "We can take a breather if you--"

"No....I've...held you up...enough times..." Edric managed to speak between gasps.

"And like I've said many times, I'm not in a hurry." Jerbo softly reminded him.

Since when were people this patient with him? Mittens would've started dragging him by the ankle by now and Emira would've used a modified Levitation spell to catapult him forwards--

His heart seized when the memories of his sisters crossed his mind. A hand went to the earring, his thumb and index finger gently rubbing the amethyst that was built into the jewellery piece. Although it helped calm him down, there was a definitive tightness in his chest.

"Uh...y-you okay?"

Jerbo's voice snapped Edric back to the present. "Y-y-yeah. Let's get moving."

There was a new determined pace to the Sorcerer's stride, Jerbo worriedly watching him from behind. As the two climbed the forested hills, the gigantic Half-Elf couldn't help but dwell on what could've startled Edric so much. The rhythm of crunching began to grow louder and heavier as the dried leaves gave way to gravel and dirt, the two finding the trees beginning to thin out.

"From what I heard, the mines are just a few leagues southwards." Jerbo glanced towards the morning sun, his shadow angled just enough for him to get his bearings. "Maybe a day or so."

"Lead the way." Edric shrugged before falling into pace behind his companion.

* * *

Hours had ticked by before noon fell upon them. After a quick lunch, they pressed on towards the mountains that towered above the hills they were crossing. Jerbo led them on, undeterred by the rocky slopes. All manners of shrubs still grew, but the once majestic trees had thinned out more.

"You come around these parts much?" Edric piped up, gravel crunching underneath his boots.

"Once." Jerbo answered. "Was a long time ago and further downhill though."

"Soooo, you haven't walked this exact path before?"

"Nope."

Edric paused. "...then how do you know where you're going??"

"Tracking the sun's movements along with the stars and recognizing landmarks in the mountain range." Jerbo answered as he continued on.

It was as his companion ended up a few meters ahead that Edric remembered to keep walking. It took a short jog to catch up, Jerbo's immense stride nearly twice his own. Reaching a large rock jutting from the ground, Jerbo suddenly paused. Turning his head to Edric, he raised his index finger to his lips before gesturing for the shorter to begin crouching, Jerbo lying flat on the ground.

Dropping to his knees, Edric looked this way and that, voice kept to a whisper. "What is it?"

"Orcs." Jerbo quietly crept forwards. Although his armor made an audible scraping along the rocky earth, he was surprisingly quiet.

Mimicking the motion, Edric joined him as the two crept near the edge of the ridge. Poking their heads up, they spotted a small band of Orcs lumbering about. One of them stood as tall as Jerbo, her body packed with muscle as she had a ramshackle warhammer slung over one shoulder. One of the other Orcs paused, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. The second his gaze turned towards the two Elves, they immediately ducked their heads back down.

"Did they--" Edric was cut off as Jerbo's enormous hand went over his mouth, the Sorcerer's lips suddenly well acquainted with the toughened callouses along Jerbo's skin.

Jerbo's ears twitched, the sound of heavy boots clanking drawing nearer. Removing his hand, the Half-Elf turned his gaze to a lightly blushing Edric. "Looks like we'll need to fight our way out. What kind of spells do you know?"

"W-w-well I've mastered Fire Bolt along with some illusions." Edric's normally suave tone was shaken a little. "My Shocking Grasp isn't too bad either, but I need to be in punching distance for that."

Jerbo's face lit up at that. "I've got an idea..."

"What'cha smell Gokz?" The Ogrillon bellowed as she unlimbered her hammer.

"Somethin' sweetar then usual..." Gokz replied as he readied his spiked sword. "...I'd almos' say it's some Long-Ears!"

That got savage smiles from the other Orcs, all of them approaching Gokz. Fantasies of snapping Elvish necks blinded them to the small stream of water that was pouring down the slope, lapping at their feet. While only a few centimeters deep, all of them were now walking in it. Suddenly, all of them froze as green bolts of lightning was conducted along the stream and locked them into place. All of them gave pained bellows, the sudden electrocution ceasing and sending a few rocketing into the air from the discharge.

Vaulting over the ridge, Jerbo's roundhouse kick finished off one Orc. Yet he smoothly transitioned to a jaw-breaking uppercut to another as Edric leapt up and began raining bolts of flames down upon the Orcs. The Ogrillon gave a war cry as she swung her hammer towards Jerbo, the Half-Elf blocking the attack merely by crossing his arms over his face.

To Edric's shock, Jerbo appeared undaunted by the blow. Such a display of might left the Sorcerer open for an Orc to swing his scimitar at him. Instinctively raising an arm, a crimson line opened up on Edric's arm as he stumbled onto his back. His Blade Ward held, but the following up stab towards his face was avoided only by jerking his head to the side. Channeling his magic, Edric's foot connected with the Orc's stomach in a weak kick, yet the electric current he delivered sent the Orc flying.

Jerbo in the meantime took a hammer-swing to the chest. His chestplate creaked, Jerbo stumbling backwards. Yet his hand clamped onto the shaft of the hammer, the Half-Elf yanking the Ogrillon towards him. His front kick connected with her diaphragm in a powerful blow, but the Half-Ogre did not relent. Her forehead slammed into Jerbo's, but the Half-Elf was only mildly fazed. His fist connected with her neck, crushing the windpipe. Another punch struck her neck, bones audibly cracking.

One more roundhouse kick snapped the Ogrillon's neck, Jerbo watching the large corpse fall. Edric came down the slope, surveying their handiwork. "Gotta say, we work great together."

"Heh, thanks..." Jerbo's cheeks were tinted red at that. "You aren't hurt or anything right?"

"Just a scratch here." Edric raised his arm to show the new slash. Noticing the look Jerbo had, he raised a hand in a placating gesture. "It only looks bad, but I reckon we can worry about it when we've set up camp."

"...you sure?"

"I am." Edric reassured him.

Although not entirely convinced, Jerbo dropped the matter as the two pressed on. Heading further uphill, the two climbed the slopes as the sun began to set behind them. As twilight fell upon them, they were beginning to set up camp on the mountainside. Edric got a small fire going as Jerbo prepared the strips of deer meat he harvested yesterday for cooking.

"...where'd you learn to fight like that?"

Jerbo looked up from his work. "...sorry?"

"It's just...I've never seen anyone do what you can do." Edric shyly continued. "I mean my aunt is a really good swordswoman and my..." The Sorcerer swallowed, eyes downcast. "...my sister was good with a sword too. But I've never seen anyone demolish Orcs with only their bare hands."

"O-oh...it's uh...bit touchy." Jerbo swallowed. Although it wasn't as bad as Tieflings, he had recieved less then pleasant responses from both sides of his family.

"Ah." Edric looked up a little. "If you're comfortable with it, I'd still like to know. But I can drop it if you'd like."

He was offering an out. Although taking it was Jerbo's default response, there was a twinge of him that was braver then that. He hadn't had a real friend since he left home and Edric was rather pleasant company to be around. He wasn't quite sure why, but he wanted to tell him.

"...my mother taught me." Jerbo began, the slightest tremor in his voice. "She was a Monk from the Shattered Mountain monastary and was a black belt."

Edric perked up, the name of the monastary jogging a memory of his history lessons. "Wait, I think I know that place! It's a Goliath temple north of Loreth isn't it? Right up in the Dragon's Jaw mountains!"

"That's the place!" Jerbo excitedly replied.

"But...but I thought only Goliaths were allowed in?"

Jerbo's face fell. He turned away, unable to return Edric's curious gaze. He wanted to try and put this conversation aside for now, but he couldn't find a way to do so. Even stranger, part of him didn't want to. "...I'm only a Half-Elf."

Edric blinked. It was suddenly starting to click in. Why Jerbo was so much taller then any other Elf. Why he could shrug off so many attacks. Why he actually fell asleep instead of meditated.

And that was when his father's disdainful sneer reappeared in his mind, reminding Edric of how much his parents despised Half-Elves.

"...if you want to say something, just get it over with." Jerbo tiredly sighed, as if he was used to this.

Edric's heart clenched when he realized he probably was. "I don't think there's anything wrong with you! I mean you're a giant guy who's heart is as big and strong as his biceps."

Silence fell, the two realizing what was said.

"...y-y-you really think that?" Jerbo breathed.

"W-well we first met when you saved me from a pack of Orcs. And you didn't even know me that well but you still saved me. Even after all the times I slowed you down with all the times I licked a bunch of weird plants--"

"H-hey, I love having you around!" Jerbo countered. "You're a really fun guy and a great friend!"

Now it was Edric's turn to feel his heart skip a beat. He was about to rest his arms on his knees before a sharp sting to his arm made him hiss in pain. Jerbo's eyes widened before circling the fire to begin addressing the injury. Edric was becoming more and more familiar with the Half-Elf's calloused and bruised hands, realizing how despite the pain that hardened them into his own weapons, they were incredibly tender as they tended to his injuries.

Edric watched him retrieve all manners of herbs and begin using them to swab the cut. Despite his herbalist pack containing so many different kinds of leaves, Jerbo never needed to look into his pack to know which one he needed. Once the wound was cleaned out, he chose another one to begin hold against the cut.

"It uh...it never really sunk in for me how many medicinal properties herbs can have." Edric internally chastised himself for letting that of all things slip out.

"Oh don't get me started, I go on for a long time." Jerbo chuckled.

"I'd love to hear it."

Jerbo blinked, looking up into those enticing golden eyes. There was an eagerness in them, asking for him to go on. Shakily inhaling, Jerbo began regaling Edric with just about every fact he knew about medicinal plants. And just like he said, he didn't seem to be running out of any of them.

Edric had never been more excited to listen to a magic lesson before.

* * *

Something Edric was grateful for was how he didn't actually need sleep. After his four hours of meditation, he was now awake and alert as Jerbo quietly slept in his bedroll. After making sure his companion was asleep, Edric lowered himself into an attempt at Jerbo's fighting stance.

The motions were clunky and awkward, clearly the work of an amateur. He was keenly aware of this, Edric muttering to himself in Elvish as he attempted the kicks and punches Jerbo was capable of. After falling flat on his face for the fifth time, Edric considered giving up on this.

The choice was made for him as a garotting wire was pulled across his neck from behind, Edric lifted off his feet as something choked the life out of him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long

Edric's legs flailed as he felt the wire tighten around his throat. His fingers couldn't find any purchase on the wire either, the Elf helplessly choking as he struggled to escape. Even with his Darkvision he couldn't see who had come, only bulky outlines of strange creatures visible in the dying embers of the campfire.

Feeling his foot feebly kick his attacker's leg, Edric barely managed to cast his spell. There was a pained screech as the wire stopped cutting into his neck, Edric dropping to the ground as his assailant was thrown back by a shocking grasp. Looking up, he saw the glint of a javelin about to impale Jerbo's head. "JERBO!!"

The Half-Elf blearily opened his eyes, a speartip just about to pierce his skull. Eyes wide, he barely rolled out of the way. Sliding out of the bedroll, Jerbo scrambled to his feet to see a mace slam into his stomach. Winded, Jerbo's gaze narrowed as he glared at the attackers. He recognized their hairy forms, the brutes all jeering in Goblin-speak.

Edric was caught in a choke hold, but he lifted a hand towards his grappler. One Fire Bolt later, the Bugbear was screaming in pain with a large patch of singed fur on his face. Spotting another one readying his javelin to impale Jerbo, Edric flung another Fire Bolt at them. The Half-Elf in the meantime was conjured several lashes of thorny vines to grab his opponent with the mace, the Bugbear's bones cracking.

The remaining thugs began turning to flee after Edric set another on fire. One of them was clutching a bleeding shoulder, lagging a few paces behind the rest. Without warning, another Bugbear shoved the wounded on to the ground. He had no chance to say anything, thorny vines binding him and biting into his flesh. And to his horror, he was being dragged back.

A ghoulish green glow illuminated Edric's face as emerald flames danced along his hand, Jerbo recalling his Thorn Whip to plant an armored boot on the Bugbear's chest. Before Edric could sear him, the Bugbear began sputtering in Common. "Now hollon a minute 'ere! Surely we could settle this like civilized beings, aye?!"

Edric flabbergastedly blinked. "Settle this like--YOU TRIED TO GARROT ME!!"

"And you'se zapped me while the big guy turned me to a pincushion. Potatoe, to-may-toe right?"

"That's not even close..." Jerbo groaned.

"B'sides, I heard that you'se were planning to get to the ol' mines!"

Edric's eyes narrowed, Jerbo grabbing a fistful of fur as he easily lifted the Bugbear off his feet. "What's it to you?"

"I can help ya get in. We'se laired up in one of them not far from 'ere. I can lead ya in and help ya...return the beatings in full." The Bugbear wickedly grinned.

"You'd turn on your own?"

"Hey, they turned on me! They kicked me over to you'se two while they saved their own stinkin' hides!"

The willingness to sell out his former gang was skeptical, but Edric and Jerbo possessed good insight. So far the Bugbear seemed to be telling the truth...

"And what do you want in return for helping us get to the mine?"

"Good ol' Skinshank 'ere gets some new heads." The Bugbear gave a low laugh. "That and whatever I can walk outta the den with."

Exchanging a look, Edric flicked his wrist as he cast Sleep. Skinshank's head lolled to his chest, snoring as Jerbo dropped him onto the ground. While the Half-Elf began tying the Bugbear to large rock, Edric thought over the offer. "What do you think?"

Jerbo blinked at first. Since when did pure-Elves ask for his opinion? "...w-well, you can never trust a Bugbear. But he didn't seem to be lying."

"I got that feeling too." Edric admitted.

"And Bugbears are very vengeful." Jerbo added when he finished tying the knot. "Could be worth a try."

"You sure about that?" Edric replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Not really. But he'd have a good idea of what kind of traps and defences there'd be."

Rekindling the fire, Jerbo began cooking something as Skinshank snored. The two were quiet as they thought over their options, weighing them as the dawn began to rise.

* * *

Skinshank was ripped from sleep with a splash of icy water on his face. Sputtering, the Bugbear looked at his captors behind his shaggy and now soaking fur. "We thought it over and we've got a deal for you." The short and easily strangle-able one was doing the talking. "You lead us to the mine, we all kill/chase off everyone inside. After that we'll cut you loose and probably not kill you."

"How generous." Skinshank sneered. Noticing the deepening scowl from the shorter one, the Bugbear groaned. "Fine, I'll do it."

With the Bugbear leading the way, Jerbo was a few paces behind him and Edric took the rear. Although the mountain's slope grew steeper, Skinshank led them along a path that had been beaten down through the dirt and rock. His hands were still bound behind his back, yet he was rather graceful as he trekked.

Jerbo periodically glanced over his shoulder, finding Edric only a few feet behind him. Rather suddenly, the two heard a voice. "So, what're you'se two even lookin' for in the mines?"

"Why do you care?" Edric snapped.

"I don't, but I reckon you'se would like to know what's in there." Skinshank snickered.

That got Edric's attention. He had no trust for the Bugbear but the prospect of blindly entering abandoned mines was not a welcome one. "And what do you know?"

"Well, me and the boys did follow them mines underneath the whole Ironspine." Skinshank remarked. "All the way from the Ribwood forests we came."

Jerbo seized up a little at that. The town Viney told him about was in that forest. Edric however beat him to it as the Sorcerer continued. "Tell us was under the mountains then."

"Hmmm, not sure if I'se in the mood for that." The Bugbear yelped as a gout of flames narrowly missed his feet. Glaring at the High Elf, Skinshank snorted. "Fine! There's a whole mess'a dead Dwarves and Orcs in there. Drew Oozes, Ghouls and Carcass Crawlers."

Jerbo frowned at that. There was something more, something about Skinshank's body language told him that he was keeping something from them. Yet before he could press the matter, the Bugbear paused and crouched down. Jerking his head towards a mine opening, Skinshank's voice dropped to a whisper. "They're holed up in there. They'd have left Rockjaw on guard, but I can handle him."

Noticing an incredibly realistic stone carving of a crow perched on a rock, Jerbo's eyes widened. Glancing at the mine, he saw a large six-legged reptile lounging outside, eyes aglow with powerful magic. Right before it turned its gaze to them, he pulled Edric behind the cover of a large rock. "You have a Basilisk?!"

"Weren't easy trainin' 'im." Skinshank remarked. "He ate four of us before we'se finally taught him to look away."

Despite the danger of a Basilisk's gaze, Edric felt twinges of excitement at the idea of meeting such a unique creature. Noticing the expectant look the Bugbear had, Edric sighed. "...once we're done with them, we go seperate ways and never meet again."

"Agreed." Skinshank fiendishly smiled as one of the long-ears cut his bonds. Rubbing his sore wrists, the Bugbear gracefully made his way along the narrow mountain trail to the mine. Jerbo and Edric could see him speaking to the Basilisk, the reptile approaching him like an excitable dog.

A few phrases in Goblin and just like that, Rockjaw turned away from the mine and travelling Elves. Turning to Jerbo and Edric, Skinshank gestured for them to join him. Once the Monk and Sorcerer were with him, Skinshank quietly lumbered into the darkness. "I'm taking Rockjaw with me, gottit?"

"...fine."

In the darkness, Edric and Jerbo could see Skinshank effortlessly melding into the shadows. His large hands easily dug into the crevices and cracks in the mine's walls, clambering along the walls as fast as if he were walking. Although prepared to cast his magic, Edric avoided conjuring any lightning or flames as all manners of Bugbears snored in the chamber up ahead.

Skinshank descended from the ceiling, a finger pressed to his lips for 'silence'. He was now carrying several severed heads, their eyelids stitched open or cut off. Silently placing them in a pile on the ground, keeping their gazes on the ground. Once he had finished that, the Bugbear gestured for the Elves to follow him deeper into the mine.

Readying his garrotting wire, Skinshank crept towards the largest of the Bugbears that was sleeping. Jerbo picked out his target as well, Edric following suit as Skinshank wrapped the wire around the neck of his former chief. Cutting off his windpipe and larynx, the Bugbear chief silently writhed as Skinshank strangled him. Jerbo in the meantime had another Bugbear in a chokehold, easily and stealthily killing him. Edric however electrocuted his target, the pained screams and reek of burning fur rousing the other Bugbears from their slumber.

One Bugbear awakened just in time to see Skinshank swing a mace down into his face. After caving in the skull, Skinshank smashed another one in the gut. Effortlessly hefting the body over his head, Jerbo threw it at another before leaping up to bring a mighty fist down on his new foe's head.

In seconds, the massacre was finished. Dusting his hands off, Edric turned to the pile of severed heads that Skinshank gathered earlier. "What's the deal with these anyways?"

Right after idly turning one over to see its dead face, the rotted lips parted for a bloodcurdling scream to echo out. Flicking his hand downwards, Edric yelped as his Firebolt turned the head to cinders.

"They're the sentries of Grankhul." Skinshank idly replied as he started sawing the chief's head off. "They screech and wail if anyone but a Bugbear crosses their gazes. And I'll be taking them with me."

"Why?"

"Wouldn't want one of you'se followin' me now would I?" Skinshank wrenched the chief's head off. Grabbing a length of barbed chains with hooks dangling off them, the Bugbear began mounting his new collection on them as he fastened the chains over his shoulder. "Tunnel you'se want is just further down. It'll lead you'se under Ironspine."

Glancing at the Bugbear, Edric and Jerbo watched him lumber out. They gave no regard or goodbye to Skinshank, the two turning their gazes to the beckoning darkness. Exchanging shrugs, the two began making their way deeper underground. Outside, Skinshank vacated the mine and lightly whistled. At the sound, Rockjaw padded to his side as the two descended the mountain.

And Skinshank dwelled on the horrors awaiting them. Despite the pain the shorter one gave him, it was fun to fantasize on what kind of suffering awaited him when they met her...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What have the Blight sisters been up to?

After a yelling match and much bawling, the Blight sisters were beginning to calm down. Emira handed her sister a silk hankerchief to wipe her eyes off on. "...I'm sorry for disappearing that night."

"I...I know why you did." Amity sniffled. "It's just how sudden it was."

Emira bitterly laughed. It was something of a stroke of luck that Lilith's new apprentice was Amity, their reunion long overdue. Courtesy of the Clawthornes, they were given their own rooms in the building that served as headquarters for the Roost Guild. The two were in Emira's room, yet Amity was finally beginning to notice something amiss in the space.

"...hey, what's with the axes?" Amity gestured towards the twin axes that were leaning on the night stand. They were not of typical Elvish graceful design or the crude simplicity of men and Tieflings.

Emira's cheeks were tinted red, golden eyes unable to maintain contact with her little sister's. "I uh...might've...gotten together with someone..."

Amity blinked. Realizing the implications of what Emira said, the youngest Blight began to smirk. "Well, well WELL. You're courting someone without our parents' approval? The SCANDAL."

Although it wasn't fun being teased at, Emira's lips twitched upwards. "She's a real nice gal, I've honestly never been happier."

"What's she like?"

Before Emira could answer, she recognized the heavy footsteps that were echoing outside the room. The door swung open for a familiar Dwarf to enter, her brown hair in a messy bun. Around her neck was a knit scarf, giving splashes of color with her gritty and worn scaled armor. "Sorry, got held up--" Pale green eyes noticed the younger Elf in the room. "...oh! Sorry, didn't know Emi had guests over."

Emira lightly blushed at her pet name. "Mittens, this is Viney."

Viney's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah, Emi told me quite a bit about you!"

"...did she now?" Amity shot a quick glare to her sister. "Nothing bad I hope?"

"Well, she brought up the time you and a Tiefling girl tried to fake being in love to tick your mother off." Viney chuckled.

Amity's face reddenned for a moment. "Well it just so happens that I have plenty of stories about Em I would _love_ to regale you with."

"WE don't have time for that!" Emira blurted.

"Another time then." Viney remarked with a fond smile as she reached rested her sledgeaxe on the floor. "I'll just be feeding Puddles, after that I'll be done for the day."

Although she wanted to tease her sister for being so smitten, Amity had to admit that it was cute how Viney gave a quick peck to Emira's cheek before heading back out. "So, what'd Ed think about her?"

Emira blinked. "...what do you mean?"

Now Amity was looking perplexed too. "Ed left home awhile ago. He was going to look for you, I thought he would've found you by now...?"

A dagger of ice shot down Emira's spine. "I thought he was still with you!"

A grim truth dawned on the two. In an attempt to deescelate their mutual panic, Amity piped up. "W-well he's still a really good Sorcerer. I'm sure he's fine--"

"This is Ed we're talking about!" Emira exploded. "You know, the guy who's been to the Healers more then anyone else for all the poisonous plants he ate?! He'd be useless on his own! He'd be eaten alive by wolves in the first--"

"EMIRA, CALM DOWN."

The older Blight winced at the tone, fearful memories of a much darker time resurfacing. She pushed it aside again, focusing on her little sister. "Look, I know he's a walking disaster too. But he's still a capable spellcaster. Might be a little bruised, but he'll be fine when we find him."

* * *

"AAAAIIIIGGGHHH!!" Edric screeched as he bolted down the tunnel, Jerbo ahead.

"I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU KNEW HOW TO HANDLE OOZES!" Jerbo snapped.

"WELL EXCUSE ME FOR HAVING A REALISTIC REACTION TO MORTAL PERIL!" Edric retorted.

Several Black Puddings were slithering along the floors behind them, pseudopods of acidic slime reaching out for the adventurers. All of them crackled with emerald electric bolts, their mass split into many threats courtesy of Edric. Spotting a sheer drop into a gorge up ahead, Edric and Jerbo noted the hanging pulleys and mining barrows that were suspended by cables just over the percepiece. Grabbing a handful of Edric's robe, Jerbo easily hefted him up and tossed him into one of the barrows before leaping into another one.

Looking back, Edric saw the oozes were still pursuing them. Jerbo grabbed a pulley and began moving the barrows along the cables that lifted them above the deep mine shaft. Edric cast Fire Bolts at the puddings, the searing heat driving them back. Jerbo pulled them further from the tunnel they were in, reaching the far end of the shaft in minutes.

Hopping out of the barrows, Edric leaned on his knees as he wheezed for breath. Shaking his head, Jerbo handed him a waterskin. "I'm sorry for freaking out earlier, I got kinda caught up in the moment."

Edric spilled water over his face before taking deep gulps of it. When he took a long swig, he finally spoke. "It's okay, I really shouldn't keep zapping everything that surprises me."

After Edric regained his breath, the two began winding their way deeper into the abandoned Mines of Gorsten.

* * *

The abandoned undercity was more unnerving then the mines. Dwarvish buildings carved into the rock of the cave itself held up the earthen roof, veins of iron and copper ores stretching through the stone like blood vessels. Yet the streets had scattered Orc and Dwarvish skeletons, all of them covered in dust and webs from the passing of the ages.

The building Jerbo found was hardly accomodating to people as big as them, Jerbo in particular needing to duck his head just to fit. Once a campfire was going, the two heated up whatever game Jerbo had caught before delving into the mines. With the meat stewing, the two were waiting in the darkness.

"...why are you even all the way out here?" Jerbo softly spoke.

Edric blinked, looking up at those earthen brown eyes. "Hmmm? Sorry?"

"I was just wondering why you'd go wandering out into the wild is all." Jerbo shrugged.

Edric visibly tensed up. He couldn't maintain eye contact, hands shoved into the folds of his coat. Although intending to dismiss this uncomfortable conversation topic, Jerbo instead saw Edric retrieve a folded letter and hand it to the Half-Elf. There was hesitation from the larger of the two before he accepted it, unfolding it to reveal elegant handwriting.

And the more he read, the heavier Jerbo's heart grew.

"...I get wanting to get out of the manor, our parents were really terrible." Edric began in a broken tone. "But we always planned on doing it together. We've done everything together since we were little, I thought..."

Edric sniffed, eyes welling up as he looked away.

"...I thought she'd want to bring me and Mittens along too."

"Didn't you have any friends who could've come with you?" Jerbo softly asked, eyes wide as he watched Edric's cool and calm demeanor crumble.

"I only had Em." Edric's voice cracked. "I was...too 'wild' for others to like me. But I didn't mind when I was with Em. Then she..."

He couldn't finish that sentence. He couldn't admit how alone he really was. He couldn't bring himself to admit it and yet the cold truth was already tightening its grip on his heart. What little self-control he had left shattered, face resting in his palms as he began to weep. He was alone, he was left behind as he always was--

That gentle weight on his shoulder made the voices quieter. He felt someone's arm sliding around the back of his shoulders, pulling him into an embrace he desperately craved. Still curled up, the Sorcerer felt handfuls of cloth in his palms as he buried his face into the crook of a neck.

Jerbo meanwhile had the reddest face he ever had in his life. He was just trying to comfort his distraught friend and now he was on the recieving end of affection from a rather attractive man. Although unfamiliar, he did not feel uneasy about it. However, the trembling High Elf in his arms reminded him that the trust so viscerally displayed was incredibly fragile.

"...I just want my best friend back." Edric sniffled.

With the building they holed up in built by Dwarves, Jerbo practically had to lie down the whole time they were inside. Turning onto his back, Edric clung to him as he continued weeping. Still keeping an arm around him, Jerbo stared up at the ceiling as Edric succumbed to his misery.

"...well, I'll make sure I can help you find her then." Jerbo softly spoke. He heard no response, head leaning up a bit to take a look at the Sorcerer. "Edric?"

Edric was asleep, face still damp with tears. Yet his grip on Jerbo's robes hadn't loosened at all, the High Elf still fiercely clinging to him.

Sighing, Jerbo lightly shuffled to get as comfortable as he could on the stone brick floor.

* * *

Dirt and wood.

Edric inhaled their scents with each breath, the smell most comforting for him. It was nothing like the wax and polish the Manor stunk of, it did not reek of sterilization. It smelled right, some part of the world he was too timid to admit loving.

Cracking his eyes open, he saw nothing but darkened rock above him. He felt roughspun fabric in his hands, the Sorcerer sitting up to see he was holding Jerbo's empty robe, the armor plates lying on the floor. A spike of panic arose as Edric scrambled to his feet, the fact that someone as large as Jerbo silently vanishing in an abandoned underground city setting off every alarm bell in his head.

The second he stepped outside, he heard heavy footsteps. Following the crunching echoes, he saw the familiar towering figure of Jerbo approaching. Although reassuring, Edric turned red in the face as he watched the shirtless Half-Goliath approach.

"Good, you're up." Jerbo non-chalantly remarked. Although he had no abs, his body was made of well-toned muscles gained from a lifetime of heavy labor. "Just had use the bathroom and you were clinging to me in your sleep. I doubt I could've gotten out of your grip."

Edric was dumbly gawking at Jerbo, absolutely gobsmacked by the sight. All manners of cuts lined Jerbo's skin, old scars here and there. A jade stone in a simple rectangular shape was hanging from the necklace he wore, several claws or teeth of some creature lightly jangling with each step he took.

Jerbo's eyebrow quirked. "Uh...you okay Edric?"

"....y-y-yeah." Edric managed. Grabbing his waterskin, he immediately doused his face in the icy cold water as Jerbo began pulling his robes back on. Taking a long inhale through his nose, Edric finally felt his pulse calm down.

"Saw some Troglodyte corpses as well." Jerbo remarked as he pulled his chainmail shirt on. After that, all that was left was his steel chestplate and gauntlets. "Looks like they've been dead awhile, but they were full of arrows."

The threat of mortal peril helped cool Edric off. "Bad company?"

"Most likely."

One quick breakfast later, the two continued following the underground roads through the ghost town. So focused on their journey through the underground they did not see one of the Orc skeletons rise after they passed it. The undead watched the two wind through the abandoned streets, the skeleton digging its fingers into a pillar holding up the roof of the city.

Bones clacked as it clambered along the rock like an insect, the skeleton effortlessly loping its way through the narrow caverns and rifts. Reaching a familiar crack, it easily wriggled through and emerged from the floor of a dimly lit chamber. Glass cylinders full of a glowing blue slime lined the walls, each one housing a mutilated body of some sort. Orcs, Humans, Tieflings, Dwarves, even Mind Flayer bodies were all floating in the tanks, thick iron pipes running from the tanks to a vile pool in the ground of the chamber.

"Report." A Wight snarled, the undead sharpening his axe. Watching the skeleton's hands, its findings were conveyed in sign. "...how many?"

The skeleton held up two fingers.

Tossing aside his whetstone, the Wight retrieved a set of knives from a bench and began sliding them into their many holsters. "Keep tabs on them but do not engage. I need to find Jasin and ensure she does not kill these ones as well."

The skeleton bolted down one of the hallways, the Wight taking another. Breaking into a sprint, his rotted chest did not heave with the kind of breath that would exhaust the living. He was unstoppable, the undead heading deeper into the mines.


	5. Chapter 5

"You read Dwarvish?"

"Not fluently." Jerbo sheepishly replied. "At least enough to read the road signs."

The two winded through the carved out tunnels, Dwarvish script engraved here and there. "How'd you learn it?"

"My sister's a Dwarf." Noticing the look Edric was giving him, Jerbo sighed. "We're not blood-related but we were best friends as kids along with Barcus."

"Ohhhh." Edric idly kicked a pebble as he followed Jerbo. "What's she like?"

"On the one hand, Viney is an absolute beast and can lay out an Ogre no sweat. On the other, she gushes over every baby animal she sees."

"Can't blame her there." Edric remarked as he recalled the bats he used to chase in the forest.

"She's a career Ranger, but she's got some sort of connection to the gods." Jerbo continued as he ducked through an arch. "She can blast lightning when she's mad."

"Sounds like Em's kinda girl." Edric chuckled. Mentioning his twin soon made him seize up when he recalled why he was here. Pushing it to the side, he lightly jogged to catch up with Jerbo. "And Barcus?"

"Professional Alchemist. He brews me and Viney up a bunch of potions before we go on a long trip and if he cannot come along."

"Did he teach you medicine?"

"Nah, that was Ma. She's a Druid and taught me everything I know about plants."

The chatter ceased when Jerbo saw a steep rocky slope up ahead. Peering down the edge, he saw a rusted piton lodged into the rock. Spinning a hand for a small Light to appear, he had it float downwards to illuminate the bottom of the slope. Shrugging at the Sorcerer, Jerbo carefully slid down the slope on his feet, reaching a stop at the bottom. Edric followed suit but was clearly off-kilter, the Half-Elf catching him at the bottom.

Turning their heads to the tunnel up ahead, they began continuing on. Minutes ticked by in the inky gloom before Jerbo paused, ears twitching. Recognizing the gesture, Edric kept quiet as he heard what made Jerbo stop.

"...I thought these mines were abandoned." Edric murmured, the clinking of pickaxes echoing from ahead.

"They should be." Jerbo quietly remarked as he crept forwards. Following the sounds of mining, the two wound deeper into the tunnels. The clinking of iron chipping away at stone grew louder, the rumble of rock and creaking of barrows accompanying into a cacophany of toil and labor.

Yet neither heard the telltale raccous cheers and laughs of Dwarf miners or even the harsh cracking of whips from Hobgobling slavers. The entire right side of the tunnel was missing up ahead, the two poking their heads around at the sight below. Dozens of Dwarvish skeletons were animated, all of them endlessly digging away at the earth. The large cavern they were in was alive with the din of mining, the skeletons tirelessly chipping tunnels through the mountains.

"...god's wounds." Edric breathed. The two were huddled on a ledge overlooking the digging, another tunnel leading further through the underground.

"There's definitely something darker at work here." Jerbo grimly muttered. "From what Viney told me about the Gorsten Mines, this is nowhere near their iron and gold veins."

"Then what are they digging for?"

"...I don't know but we need to find out. Skeletons don't rise of their own accord."

With all the skeletons laboring below, heading down was out of the question. The two crept further along the ledge they were on, following the tunnel through the earth. It wound much more then the others, the tunnels suspiciously amiss of any corpses from the Gorsten Massacre. Stone steps were carved into the ground, the duo following them upwards to find a hallway with several chambers branching off at the top.

Glancing at the doorframe of the nearest chamber, Edric's brows quirked. He could not read the script, but he had definitely seen it before, probably during one of his lessons. A feeling of dread coiled in his stomach as he gazed at the engravings, failing to recall what language it was. Jerbo in the meantime was investigating the iron bars that jutted from the doorframe, all of them bent forwards as if they were blasted open from inside the room.

The two carefully entered the chamber, revealing a small room. In the middle of the floor was a large stone coffin, its lid smashed and in pieces on the floor. There was no one inside it either, only shattered and rusted chains.

"...did Viney ever mention a tomb?" Edric whispered.

"I don't think anyone knew of this." Jerbo quietly replied. The carved-out rooms were not of Dwarvish make, anxiety beginning to surface in the Half-Elf.

Exiting the room, the two headed for the other rooms to find them similar to the first. Six empty caskets were found, each one a well of black in the perpetual gloom. Not needing torches or magic lights, the pair entered the seventh chamber, Edric pausing.

"...there's something in there." He pointed to the gaping open casket.

Gazing into the darkness, Jerbo swallowed. "Define 'something'."

"Not a creature, but some sort of ancient magic." Edric crept closer. He felt an electrifying sensation across his skin, a feeling he only felt once before. "...you ever been deep in Frost Moon Forest?"

"Can't say that I have Ed."

"Well, this tomb has the same feeling as a Fey Crossing my mother took me through in the heart of Frost Moon." Edric did not see the stunned look Jerbo was giving him. "I think this leads to a different Plane! Hell, this could explain why there's Undead around here."

Jerbo felt a twinge of guilt for not paying as much attention to Barcus' ramblings about the different Planes. "...so how does it work?"

"Pretty sure we just jump in." Edric gestured to the open casket, an infinitely dark well of shadows within. "I can go first--"

"Yeah, no." Jerbo firmly rested a hand on Edric's shoulder. "If we're going to do this, then we do it together."

The Sorcerer was glad it was dark, it hid how red his cheeks went. He still nodded, his hand reaching to take Jerbo's. "...you sure about this?"

"Not at all, but I know you've got my back." Jerbo smiled.

Hand in hand, the two leapt into the casket and were swallowed by the darkness.

* * *

Emira rubbed her hands, feeling a sharp chill shoot through her body. It was an odd feeling to have in late spring, the Sorceress pulling leather gloves over her hands. She was on the ground floor of the Roost's HQ, the space furnished into a tavern. Although tucking into her bowl of hot stew, it was failing to warm the light chill in her chest.

The door creaked open as Viney entered, pale green eyes lighting up when she saw the Elf. "How was your morning luv?"

"It was great until you left for your morning routine." Emira pouted, hints of deviancy in those golden irises.

"Well sorry for making sure my childhood friend is well fed." Viney stuck her toungue out as she took a seat opposite of Emira.

Unable to keep up the act, the Elf let her frown turn to a fond smirk. "Okay, I know that Puddles is very important to you. But surely a couple minutes longer with me wouldn't hurt?"

"Hmmmm, I dunno. I mean one of you is very dear to my heart that I could never live without while the other is a needy Elf."

Emira comically recoiled in mock-offense. "Well, I am glad you volunteered to sleep on the sofa tonight."

Viney heartily laughed for a little while. Before long, her mirth vanished when she recognized the slight shiver in her girlfriend. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Just a little chilly is all." Emira shrugged before taking a quick bite of stew. "And I know it's spring and the area's already thawed."

"Maybe some kind of magic?" Viney was racking her brain for memories of all the maladies she had studied in her youth.

"Don't think so. Most cold-related spells hit much harder then a slight chill."

Their conversation was interrupted by a familiar Tiefling, horns jutting from a mane of silver hair while a small owl was perched on her shoulder. "Alright freeloaders, I've got a job for you."

"Please be violent, Boscha won't shut up about the bandit she choked out with one arm." Viney muttered.

"Today's your lucky day then! Some Halflings down south have got Ogres roaming around." Eda cackled.

Lifting her sledgeaxe from the floor, Viney had a large grin. "Sounds like my kind of tune."

* * *

"Report."

"There's no sign of them in the tombs." A Wight answered, the chains to her large flail clanking. "We believe they may have taken the doorway."

The towering figure rose to its full height, no longer hunched over the operation table with a dissected Bugbear. Billowing sallow robes were pulled in tight over their lean frame, four glimmering yellow lights cast from behind a leather mask stitched into the likeness of a crow's beak. "Is the doorway still open?"

"For now." The Wight shrugged. "We could close it to trap them there."

"No." The gangly being rasped. "I need new subjects. Three of you are to follow them, force them back to the tomb. I'll have Jasin ready to subdue them."

"Very well."

* * *

Jerbo felt coarse dirt underneath his hands. As a gardener he was very familiar with dirt, yet there was something wrong about what he felt. Clambering upwards, he felt a cold sensation in the earth that was most unnatural. He would recieve his answers as the two climbed out the hole in the ground, Edric and Jerbo climbing out of what they realized was a freshly dug grave.

"...charming." Edric remarked as he surveyed the graveyard they were now in. Cracked gravestones were in disorganized rows, thorny vines tangled around each one. Turning to Jerbo, Edric was taken aback at the sight.

The Monk had a similar reaction, the two pointing to each other. "Y-YOU--?!"

While both were recognizable, the two looked discolored. The iconic emerald hue of Edric's hair had faded to a murky greenish-grey, his golden eyes now a dulled bronze. Jerbo however now had muddled dark grey hair, the magenta accents on his robes now appeared to be bleached to greyed hues.

"...I-I don't feel any different." Jerbo managed as he looked himself over. Aside from every color he once had becoming darkened, he didn't appear any different. Taking a good look at where they were only made the dread heavier in his gut.

The sky was an inky void of black, no stars or moon illuminating the world. Gnarled and leafless trees with coarse and grey bark were around the graveyard, many of the trees in the shape of hands. Bleak mountains were visible in the distance, their peaks eroded into the image of screaming skulls while the frigid air was alive with distant wails and screams.

"...by the Blight I think we're in Shadowfell." Edric breathed.

"That's not good." Jerbo replied, skin crawling as he looked this way and that for threats.

"Agreed. Guess that's enough exploring for toda--"

Barbed arrows shot from the open grave that served as the Shadow Crossing, Edric and Jerbo yelping as they stumbled away from the hole. Rotted limbs suddenly jutted from the grave, a face disfigured from decay jutting out as the Wight emerged. The duo had no time to act, the Wight parting its rotted lips for a bloodcurdling shriek to spill out.

The dirt in the graveyard began to wriggle, the air reeking of dust and rot. Shambling figures of humans, Orcs, Dwarves and more were clambering out of the ground as the shimmering eyes of Specters twinkled in the darkness. And all of them were staring straight at the Sorcerer and Monk.

"Bring me those meatbags." The Wight spat as he signalled for the Undead to attack.


	6. Chapter 6

For the longest time, Jerbo considered the Shambling Mound he, Viney and Barcus fought when they were younger was the scariest thing he had ever seen. For awhile this proved true to him but now? Now fear was redefined as what he was witnessing in Shadowfell.

Jerbo's fists and feet made a gorey mess out of the Zombies that rushed for him. His bruised knuckles easily punched through the stomach of one, the Monk grabbing its spine. Turning around, he easily tossed it at more Zombies before ducking underneath the axe of another. Edric was behind him, flames erupting from his fingertips in Fire Bolts. Rotted flesh easily caught fire, Specters too warded off by the magical flames.

"Buy me a few seconds!" Jerbo yelled as he reached for his necklace.

Edric had no time to question, the Sorcerer spinning flaming whips around them to keep the Zombies and Specters at bay. A ghastly creature had wrapped its fingers around Jerbo's pauldron right as he produced the jade stone that he carried around his neck.

" **Vinda Hiatea, skold!** " Jerbo's voice rumbled out like a thunderclap, the Undead freezing in their charges at the sight of the jade. Many were Turned, fleeing at the sight of it while the few remaining ones were hesitant. It gave Edric the opening he needed to scorch them from existence, mounds of ashes left.

Surveying their handiwork, Edric leaned on his knees as he caught his breath. "What...was that??"

"I-I-I Turned them." Jerbo shakily answered. "...didn't think it'd work, I've n-never done it before."

Surveying the scene, Edric shrugged. "Well, that was pretty damn impressi--"

A large arrow struck Jerbo's arm, the barbed arrowhead jutting out the other side. Edric's eyes widened, the Half-Elf sucking in a pained breath as they turned their head to where the shot came from. There was only a desolate graveyard, another arrow flying and nicking Edric's ear.

"We've gotta move!" Jerbo yelped as more arrows flew out of the shadows.

Channeling his magic, Edric raised his hands as he casted his illusions. Several phantasms of the two manifested, drawing the archers' aim as they fled into the twisted forest of Shadowfell. Silence soon returned, several Wights emerging from their hiding spots.

"How problematic." One of them growled as he nocked another arrow in his bow. His rotted body was clad in obsidian armor, screaming face motifs in his kneepads and pauldrons. "If I could've aimed for their vitals--"

"They would've died and the Doctor wants them alive." A second Wight spat, the chains to her flail clanking.

"Enough." The third drawled, a large warhammer slung over his shoulder. "We don't have time to bicker. You two pursue them, I'll remain here in case they return."

Although they bristled at the orders, the two Wights complied as they headed into the forest. While his companions gave chase, the third Wight waved his hand for a mob of Zombies to shamble up to him at his command. Wordlessly directing them, he prepared them for his trap.

* * *

"Okay, we should be good for now."

Edric allowed himself to collapse onto the floor, chest heaving. His limbs felt like lead, Jerbo lightly panting as he kept an eye out the broken window. Although not much of a secure location, it overlooked a narrow ramp carved into the hill slope. The only way in unless one wanted to fight through the thickets of barbed shrubs and bushes, their thorns almost a foot long.

After catching his breath somewhat, Edric finally turned his gaze towards his companion. Without exhaustion weighing him down, he realized that the arrow from earlier was still lodged in Jerbo's arm. "Uh...that arrow?"

The Monk looked at him in confusion before recalling he was shot. "Oh yeah." Examining the injury, Jerbo clucked his tongue. "Aigh, this will be a pain to dress."

"...I-I could do it for you."

There was a snap of wood, Jerbo idly tossing the arrowhead aside before carefully pushing the arrow out. It was then he realized what Edric offered. "....y-y-you sure? I've learnt Cure Wounds--"

"Look, I'm not sure if either of us will be able to safely get some sleep while we're in Shadowfell." Edric countered. "So we should conserve our magic. That and after watching you heal me up, I'm certain I can do the same for you."

So that was how Edric found his trembling fingers tenderly wiping away the blood and sweat along Jerbo's well-toned arm. Although blood continued to trickle out, Edric remained somewhat calm as he began rummaging through the herbalism pack. "Was it the Kingsfoil for treating flesh wounds?"

"That's for poisons." Jerbo corrected. "It's the Cat's Tongue that heals flesh."

Edric paused, face stricken as he glanced at the Monk. Realizing why, Jerbo's eartips turned red. "O-oh, it's not actually a cat's tongue. It's called that because the leaves are similar in texture to cat tongues."

"Ohhhhh."

There was a clatter of glass, Edric carefully extracting the correct vial from the leather pack. Popping the cork off, he sprinkled the leaves onto the bandages that were waiting. And after agreeing with the comparison of the leaves to a feline's tongue, he packed them against Jerbo's arm, the bandages keeping them in place. A few moments later, Edric finished his work off with an absurd attempt at knot-tying.

"...no one taught you how to tie a knot huh?"

"It's why my boots don't have laces." Edric sheepishly replied.

Lightly chuckling, Jerbo accepted the herbalism kit Edric handed to him. "So, where do we go from here?"

"Back to the Material World, Shadow Crossings are two-way." Edric answered. "Biggest hitch with that are those Wights."

"I could try Turning them, but they are significantly hardier then Zombies and Ghouls." The Half-Elf shrugged. "By the by, does something about them seem...familiar?"

"Can't say I do. Why do ya ask?"

"It's their armor. I feel like I've seen it before but I can't figure out where." Jerbo frowned as he pondered it. The armor the Wights wore were definitely not Dwarvish or Elvish make, yet he had seen its design before hadn't he?

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." Edric warmly remarked. "But for now, how about we get some food and rest?"

* * *

Borrison had a fond smile as he finished reading the letter. His daughter was doing well, having found employment for a guild down south. Folding up the page, he slid it back into the envelope and left it on the dinner table. He was about to resume his breakfast when a heavy knock echoed through his house.

"I didn't order anything!" The Dwarf yelled.

"Not a messenger." A woman's voice echoed back.

Borrison's eyebrows quirked, the tone sparking an old memory. Getting to his feet, he opened the door to see a familiar face. "...Morrigan?"

"Who else is this devilishly charming?" The old Tiefling chuckled. Her silver hair was a wild mess, draping down over her haggard clothing made of all manners of animal pelts.

Borrison heartily laughed as she leaned down to return the hug, the Dwarf gesturing for her to come inside. "Come in! Just finished cooking up some brekkie, help yourself!"

Before long, Morrigan had joined her old friend at the table as they dined on fresh bread, cheese and sausages. In true Dwarvish manner, Borrison was regaling her with his most recent exploits from his barrel riding to log rolling against his brothers. In between mouthfuls of food Morrigan laughed, her horns even getting stuck in the ceiling at one point.

"Now, glad as I am to see ya again, seems odd that you've come this far up north." Borrison remarked as he began clearing the empty plates.

"Afraid I'm here on business so I won't be here long." Morrigan replied as she wiped the grease off her lips with a napkin.

"Crying shame, but I suppose it's important?"

"Very. But I wanted to see an old friend while I was here."

"Oh you charmer." Borisson chuckled. "Now I'm afraid that I probably won't be able to tag along this time round."

"Understood. However, there is something you could give me a hand with." Morrigan rummaged through her patchwork coat to produce a pipe, the Druid sprinkling dried tobacco leaves into it. "You still have your maps on the Gorsten Mines?"

Borisson's bushy eyebrow quirked at that. "I do, but why do you need them? You know as well as I do that the city was overrun by Orcs long ago."

"My Augury spoke of something stirring there. I need to see what it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Jerbo multi-classes as a Cleric/Monk. He's a Nature Cleric of Hiatea from the Giant Pantheon
> 
> Morrigan is Eda and Lilith's grandma and belongs to Vee, Borisson is mine and is Viney's dad


	7. Chapter 7

Although not particularly proficient in stealth, Jerbo and Edric were both light on their feet as they crept through the mangled forest of Shadowfell. The Monk possessed a great sense of balance, his armor barely clinking while Edric's simple cloth and leather attire made only the quietest of rustles. Creeping through the inky gloom, both could see the road that led to the graveyard in the distance.

Peeking his head above the fallen log they were huddled behind, Edric carefully scanned the area. Although they had run afoul of a handful of Specters on the way over, the real threat were the Wights that pursued them in the first place. Although he saw no sign of them, the two carried on parellel to the road rather then walk along it.

"Do you think you can turn the Wights?" Edric spoke in a hushed tone.

"It's possible, but I wouldn't bet on it." Jerbo whispered. "I reckon that a fight is our best chance."

As if to prove his point, two arrows suddenly buried themselves in the tree branch just above them. Edric reflexively splayed a hand in the direction they came from, searing emerald flames bursting from his fingertips. In the ghoulish malachite glow of a burning tree, he saw one of the Wights narrowly evade his Fire Bolts before firing another arrow.

"Get clear!" Jerbo yelped as he grabbed Edric by the collar and easily tossed him over a fallen log, the Sorcerer landing on the dirt path. While the Monk followed, he slightly winced as the arrow grazed his arm. "Think you can give him something to shoot?"

"No sweat." Edric grinned as his hands glowed green. Conjuring a Phantasmal Force, Edric puppetteered the illusion of himself into charging the Wight. Sure enough, the Undead was decieved. "That gives us one minute."

"All I need." Jerbo remarked as he melded into the shadows and began circling the Wight.

Edric kept his eyes on his Phantasm, ensuring it kept up a convincing show as the Wight wasted his arrows. Yet it was dispelled as a large chunk of spiked metal slammed into the Sorcerer's side, sending him sprawling into the ground. Clutching his side, Edric felt blood seeping out, ribs aching.

"That's the problem with you spell-chuckers." A second Wight grimly laughed as she hefted her flail for a second swing. "You have the durability of wet paper."

The flail came swinging down, Edric barely rolling out of the way. Resting his hand on its chain, the Shocking Grasp was conducted and the discharge sent the Wight flying back. "Who's wet paper now?"

The Monk meanwhile had closed the distance between himself and his own Wight. The Undead had seen the Phantasm dissolve too late, Jerbo's kick knocking the bow out of his rotted hands. A swift uppercut followed, the Wight snarling as he stumbled back. Drawing a shortsword from his belt, the Undead smoothly retaliated with a series of slashes. Steel clanged as Jerbo's vambraces blocked each attack, the larger man forced back.

"Who in the Four Winds are you?" Jerbo snapped.

"You are millennia too young to remember my name or the weight it once carried." The Wight snapped, his overhead swing blocked by Jerbo's crossed arms.

Elsewhere, Edric found himself in a less then ideal position. His opponent's obsidian armor rendered his Fire Bolts a mere nuisance at best, the Wight barreling towards him. Although her rotted skin was singed and smoke puffed from the gaps in her armor, the Undead was undeterred as she tackled the Sorcerer by the waist. Locking her arms around his back, she slammed him into a tree, wood and bone splintering.

"Where's all that bravado gone boy?" The Wight spat as she easily pinned him with one arm, the other drawing back in preperation to punch him.

Gurgling as he helplessly flailed in her grip, Edric's Shocking Grasp clamped onto her arm. The Wight thrashed backwards, green lightning bolts coursing along her armor as she stumbled away from him. A salvo of Fire Bolts followed up, forcing her back. By the time the fires ebbed, the Wight looked up in time to see the Elf fade into the murky air with Invisibility.

"...so that's how you want to play?" The Wight hefted her flail back up, ready to swing. "Fine by me."

Jerbo saw another overhead swing coming for him. With the fluidity of water in the stream, he brought clapped his hands together for the blade to be caught between his palms. Overpowering the Wight, Jerbo forced the Undead to stumble backwards as he transitioned into a back kick that sent the Wight flying into a rock.

Not letting up, Jerbo opened a hand for thorny vines to burst forth. Snaring the Wight by his arms, Jerbo twisted on the spot to hurtle the Undead into a tree. The vines bound him to the leafless tree, large thorns slipping through gaps in his armor and biting into his lifeless flesh.

"You are outmatched." Jerbo calmly remarked, eyes narrowed at the Undead.

"The same could be said about your friend." The Wight spat. "Against the Iron Maiden, he'll be lucky if he can still walk afterwards."

That nickname sparked a memory. Jerbo recalled an ancient tome Barcus liked to recite to them when they were little, all three huddled under their blankets as Barcus recounted the tales of bygone villains. Stomping up to the Wight, the Monk roughly grabbed him by the gorget, dragging him closer and thus pushing the thorns deeper into his body.

"Who. Are. You."

Skinless lips contorted, forming a nightmarish smile. "Your death."

Jerbo froze, the Wight's hand on his chestplate. It was all he needed for his Life Drain to take hold, a wicked chill spreading through the Monk's body. His muscles were having much difficulty responding to him now, his body growing numb. The vines began to recede, the Wight now free to grab him with both hands.

"Your gods cannot save you here."

Jerbo fell to his knees, body unresponsive. He watched his opponent draw a knife from his belt, preparing to bring it drive into the Monk's neck. Right as he raised his arm to strike, Edric appeared behind him. Grabbing the knife, the Elf wrestled with the Undead for the blade. Releasing his deathly grip on Jerbo, the Wight grabbed a handful of Edric's robe and easily threw him into a tree. Yet right as he hit the ground, Edric flicked his wrist for a Fire Bolt to smack into the Wight's face, burning off what little flesh remained.

"Brave of you boy." The Undead hissed, his face reduced to cracked bone. "But not particularly wise."

"Got your eyes on me. That's all he needed." Edric wheezed.

Too late, the Wight turned his head to see Jerbo's fists strike him. Obsidian armor cracked from the force of Jerbo's Flurry of Blows, the Wight stumbling back. As the Thorn Whip snared his neck again, the Undead was hurtled towards the other one, knocking both Wights onto the ground. Sliding an arm under Edric's shoulder, Jerbo helped him up and the two began to flee towards the graveyard.

"I could cast another Phantasm on them." Edric gasped as he struggled to keep up. "Just need to concentrate--"

Jerbo easily hefted the Elf over his shoulders, carrying him without slowing at all. "I've got you Ed."

The Sorcerer blushed at that, hands swirling as he conjured his magic. He could see the two Wights falling for the illusions, unaware their prey was escaping. The clanging of metal and infuriated bellows drew Specters and Ghosts, the dimly glowing phantoms slithering through the trees as Edric and Jerbo followed the path back to the cemetary.

"Alright, that should've bought us enough time." Edric remarked, Jerbo taking the hint and putting him back onto his feet. "Reckon they've left something guarding the Shadow Crossing, I'll need to drop my focus on them if I'm going to help you fight them."

"Understood." Jerbo channeled magic through his fingers, their Wounds Cured. Yet he could not shake the icy clutch of death from his heart, the Wight's touch still ahold on him. "...think we could just bolt straight for the Crossing?"

"Yeah." Edric rolled his neck. Although most of his injuries had healed, he could still feel the drain of magic in his veins. "You want to go first?"

"You lead. That way I'll know if you get exhausted." Jerbo chuckled.

Shaking his head with a fond sigh, Edric began bolting for the empty grave. As expected, dozens of Zombies burst from the ground. Rotted hands attempted to grab at their ankles, Edric burning they away while Jerbo simply crushed them beneath his steel boots. The grave was coming into view, only a few meters ahead as they continued to run.

With nothing ahead to impede them, Edric turned his head to see another Wight slam his warhammer into Jerbo's side from behind. Unlike the other blows he had tanked, this one sent the Monk sprawling into the dirt. Golden eyes widened in horror, Edric skidding to a halt just before the Shadow Crossing.

"JERBO!!"

The Wight turned his head towards the Sorcerer, readying his hammer for another swing. "A friend of yours eh?"

"I will erase you from reality before you touch him again." Edric snarled, a pale green glow emmanating from his lean frame.

The Wight tilted his head, humming in thought. He could feel the air growing heavier as the Sorcerer rushed for him, raw and undiluted power radiated from him. It was as mighty as it was uncontrolled, the Undead smirking behind his horned helmet.

Edric unleashed twin jets of emerald flames, the Wight making no effort to avoid them. Edric could see his hulking ebon outline in the fire, the Wight emerging to slam the shaft his hammer into Edric's gut. Winded, Edric stumbled back before the Wight brought his hammer to the Elf's chest, ribs snapping as he collapsed.

"You have all the control and discipline of a wild wind." The Wight remarked as he planted his boot on Edric's chest. "Directionless and without focus."

Edric could find nothing to say as his world went dark.

* * *

"You have them?"

"We do indeed." Hammer Hand easily tossed the Elf Sorcerer onto the operating table. Behind him, the Iron Maiden and Bloodwind carried the Half-Goliath onto another one. "Now, about the tunnels--"

"They have almost reached Morzoch." The gangly and nightmarish creature remarked. "You all shall have your bloodlust sated there."

"Good." Hammer Hand gestured for the Wights to leave, his warhammer hefted over one shoulder. "Tell the Master that his plan is moving along."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Plot thickens

**Author's Note:**

> I probably wont continue this, so feel free to ask for anything about the context (like why Jerbo is so TALL)


End file.
